Seeds of Evil
by Tyros Ironside
Summary: First fanfic. After a hunt went wrong, Qui'aleen has been left with two of his brothers slain, a traitor on the loose, and a baby as the sole human survivor of a village. His honour demands that he raise the child, but darker challenges lie ahead. R&R.
1. Prologue

**AvP**

**Seeds of Evil**

Prologue:

_The hunt is on._

The last light of the sunset shone in beams through gaps in the trees. Qui'aleen looked up; the crimson strands of light reflecting off his scarred mask. Birds were still in flight, their frightened calls ringing across the treetops; dust and dirt still clouded the air.

Qui'aleen turned around, gazing at his open shuttle, its nose buried in the ground. Thoughts were darting through his mind as he wondered if his decisions had been correct.

As the clan elder, he chose a select few to join him on a hunt. His clan had seen two new young bloods. Their first kills had been made but a few weeks past. Already Qui'aleen's nerves were running thin for their arrogant ways.

There was another young blood within his clan though, older than the other two. This Yautja – Vae'zan as he was called – proved to be a much greater problem than any other Qui'aleen had come across. After Vae'zan claimed his first kill, the taste for hunting grew stronger with each new slaughter. Soon, the hunt alone became insignificant to him, for it was the mere carnage that he venerated. Before long, the immutable codes of honour that bound the Yautja for countless centuries became but a hindrance to Vae'zan. He detested the laws, for as he saw it, if a creature was unable to fight back it should not live in the first place. He wanted power, strength, destruction, and to wallow in the writhing, bloodied bodies of almost anything that lived.

Qui'aleen saw this problem worsening with each passing day. He had beheld the sight of Vae'zan breaking the Yautja codes of honour on several occasions. Creatures which were wounded or sick from disease had been spared no benevolence from his baleful hands.

The problem had grown so great, that most elders would have reported such a young blood to the Yautja High Council, leaving the subject to _their_ mercy. Qui'aleen was different though. He was a fierce warrior with a bitter anger when wronged, but he was compassionate and not only cared for all those in his clan, but respected each and every one of them too. He respected life in general, not just of his species, but of others too. Though he enjoyed the hunt, he clung fiercely to the Yautja codes.

He felt it was his responsibility to change Vae'zan instead of simply turning him into the council. He would give the young blood one last chance. Either he would change, or he would be forever exiled, hunted by his own people.

And so, to combat the problem, Qui'aleen thought he could change the young blood by teaching him while on the hunt. The codes of honour could be shown in full practice. Those among the species who were to die were not the strongest of prey, but they would put up enough of a fight to put across Qui'aleen's point.

The hunting ground chosen housed prey that would not only be worthy of killing, but some would be worthy of life. The hunting ground Qui'aleen had chosen was named Earth.

Qui'aleen breathed in the sights and sounds. The calls of birds were returning slowly, and distant crackles could now be heard. What they were, he did not know, but not even they could disturb the new sense of peace that had surrounded him.

Only moments ago he stood on the transport ship, addressing those chosen for the hunt. As well as the three young bloods, there were three blooded ones. Among the three blooded individuals was Kaur'an – the Yautja who was Qui'aleen's right hand, and his most trusted friend. Kaur'an was a good and honourable friend. He was harsh, especially on young bloods, but his heart was in the right place. Although he meant well – only acting strict so as to better teach those younger and less experienced than he – he often came across as being sour. He had a fearsome reputation and often inspired fear into those just learning to hunt.

The seven Yautja had stood together, the excitement building within them. With undying anticipation they entered the drop pods. As Vae'zan was about to enter his pod, he felt a hand come crashing down on his shoulder, its grip tight and threatening.

Kaur'an stood there, his eyes locked on to those of the young blood. He waited until all had entered their pods before speaking. "I will be watching you, murderer. You will adhere to Yautja code, or you will suffer. Where our great leader has mercy for all, I do not. Should you dishonour our clan again, I will tear off your head, and keep it as a trophy. Do you understand?"

An awkward silence ensued for a moment, filled with a complete absence of motion by either of the hunters. Vae'zan gave a nod. "I understand," he said in a contemptuous tone.

Qui'aleen's thoughts were disrupted as he heard the crackling of a breaking twig behind him. He spun quickly to the source of the sound. His nerves were eased as he saw it was merely his clansmen standing before him, awaiting further instructions.

More crackling could be heard in the near distance. With a quick growl, he set off towards the sound at a hurried pace, his party following closely.

They continued to run towards the source of the sound, their pace quickening as they got closer and closer. Their eagerness increased with each footstep, as it soon became apparent that the crackling was the sound of weapon fire, thus meaning prey worthy of the hunt lay ahead.

The warriors ran with great vigour, their steps pounding the leaves beneath their feet. They came at last to a slope. Dense bushes and tree cover blocked sight of what lay beyond, but the gunfire was loud as thunder now.

Qui'aleen looked at Kaur'an, and with the flick of his head, he signalled for his fellow warrior to circle around the clearing. Kaur'an tapped one of the young bloods on the shoulder and instantly the two activated their cloaking devices and set off to flank their unseen prey. The second blooded warrior set off with the second young blood to cover the left flank.

Qui'aleen stood with the third blooded warrior and the impetuous Vae'zan. They each climbed separate trees, lest they make for an easy target bunched together in the case of discovery. Turning their cloaking devices on, they danced across the thick branches with acrobatic precision.

They moved silently among the leaves until at last they had a clear view of what lay before them.

A small village lay in the clearing beyond. Smoke and flames were rising from several of the houses, and the ground was scarred with battle damage.

There were several bodies scattered around the village. Qui'aleen looked further into the village and at last saw signs of life. There were several humans holding weapons, many of whom had their weapons pointed at unarmed humans who were kneeling on the ground. Qui'aleen made a quick tally and counted twelve unarmed humans kneeling on the ground. There were structures blocking his visibility of the armed humans, but he counted at least fourteen.

The humans were gathered close to the other side of the clearing, just next to the jungle's edge where the other Yautja warriors were waiting.

Qui'aleen gave the signal for the two warriors with him to follow his lead. He jumped to the ground in the clearing, and hastily leapt to take a position on the roof of one of the small houses. Vae'zan stuck to the ground, while the other blooded one followed the lead, jumping on the roof of another house.

It was only when Qui'aleen was much closer to the humans that he saw something disgraceful. Many of the humans who were kneeling in surrender were wounded, some were male, some were female, and some were burdened with sickness. There were even elderly in the group, yet still no mercy was offered to them by the armed humans. He noticed with a heavy heart that one of the females carried a baby in her arms. Tears ran down her cheeks, but it was apparent the group were to be executed, even the mother.

This gave Qui'aleen a greater zeal for the hunt which was to commence.

The woman holding the baby looked up at one of the armed men. "Please," she pleaded.

The armed man who appeared to be the leader stepped forward. "Someone in this village notified authorities of our activity. That causes a problem, 'cause our boss doesn't like being ratted on."

"Please, at least spare my child," she said.

He gave an evil smirk. "Do I look like a negotiator to you?" he laughed, then pointed his gun at her head.

One of the armed men next to him furrowed his brows in confusion. "Hey, you've got somethin' on your face," he stated.

Before the leader could see the three red dots on his forehead, a brilliant blue orb of energy tore through his skull. His lifeless body hit the floor as the armed men shouted in terror and began firing in all directions. Some of the bullets hit the unarmed humans, causing five to die on the spot.

Bolts of energy fired from all directions, tearing into the armed men who turned out to be easy prey. Qui'aleen noticed another group of armed men charging out of a building to his left. He and many of the others joined him as he made his way over to them. Plasma bolts cut into their flank, causing them to turn and exposing their backs to Qui'aleen and the blooded warrior with him. Their wristblades shot out and they charged the group, cutting into exposed flesh with ease. Havoc and confusion ensued for the humans. As the humans ran in terror, they scattered through the village. More armed humans seemed to be in the buildings, and the warriors set to the task of cleaning out each building one by one.

Vae'zan and one of the blooded warriors with him killed the last armed man standing next to the group of unarmed humans. They both deactivated their cloaking devices. The blooded one knelt before one of his fallen prey to claim his trophy. Vae'zan wanted more blood though. He turned his gaze to the unarmed humans who survived and slowly approached them. His wristblades shot out, alerting the blooded one. The blooded one quickly made his way to Vae'zan and placed a hand on the young blood's shoulder while shaking his head. "Not these ones."

Vae'zan shook the blooded warrior's hand off and continued to his prey. The blooded one grappled Vae'zan's arm firmly. Vae'zan stopped, then without warning, he plunged his blades into the blooded one's chest, piercing the warrior's heart.

From behind a building another of the blooded warriors came into sight range, three trophies held by the spine were dangling in his hand. As he saw the dead Yautja and Vae'zan covered in his fallen comrade's blood, he dropped the skulls. He let out a roar and charged towards Vae'zan.

The two clashed and grappled one another as they kicked and slashed with their blades. The unarmed humans ran into the building next to them, hoping to hide from the monsters before them.

The blooded one punched Vae'zan, causing him to stumble. This attack was followed up by a vertical slash, which the young blood leapt backwards to avoid. He did not dodge fast enough, however, causing the slash to leave two symmetrical cuts down Vae'zan's mask.

Vae'zan kicked his opponent, then leapt upon him while he was down, stabbing his blades into the blooded one repeatedly. The blooded one stopped moving and Vae'zan stood up again.

He stepped into the building in which the humans were taking refuge, his wristblades still dripping with fluorescent green blood. The humans were huddled into a corner, their eyes wide with terror. The mother held her baby so that its face was pressed against her chest, thus that it could not see the horror which was about to ensue. Vae'zan approached them and showed them no mercy, slashing and hacking at the defenceless prey. As they tried to run for the door, he cut them down one by one. The mother still clung to her baby, and making a desperate attempt to reach the door, she ran. A blade sliced into her back and pierced through the other side. As the blade came out the other side of her body, it cut the baby's face, leaving a deep cut vertically down the right side of the babe's face.

Despite the grievous wound, the mother kept running, making it to the door and a few steps out before collapsing. When the screams had stopped inside, silence followed. The tapping of footsteps told her that the monster was approaching. With the last of her strength, she tried to drag herself away, the baby clutched in one arm. Vae'zan knelt down and grabbed her throat, preparing to plunge his blades deep into her chest before slaying the baby.

He heard a roar to his left and turned to see Kaur'an standing a small distance away, the rest of the warriors close behind. Kaur'an charged his plasma caster and prepared to fire. Vae'zan saw this and ran as energy bolts started flying past him, hitting trees as he ran. Sparks erupted around him and within seconds he was out of sight.

The warriors approached their fallen kin and knelt by the bodies, touching the foreheads of their brothers in sorrow. Qui'aleen saw that the woman was still alive, and so he knelt by her side, seeing the fatal wound through her chest. He looked at the crying baby who had blood smeared all over it. Most was from its mother but he noticed a cut on the baby. The cut ran from above the child's right brow down to its cheek. Luckily the incision did not reach the baby's eye itself, or even the eyelid.

The mother looked up at Qui'aleen, her breathing heavy but slowly failing. He placed a hand over his heart and bowed his head, then placed the hand over her forehead. She understood the gesture as a combined apology and deep felt sorrow. "Please," she said with a quavering voice. "Save my son. Don't... Don't let him die."

Qui'aleen looked at the child who was the sole human survivor. He gave the mother a nod and carefully picked it up, cradling it in his arms. "Thank... you," the mother managed to say before closing her eyes.

Kaur'an slowly walked over to Qui'aleen. "We cannot take the baby. Leave it here; we must pursue that dishonourable pauk!"

"He is already too far gone," replied Qui'aleen. "And I cannot leave the child. It will die if I do."

"That is not our concern," argued Kaur'an.

"I brought Vae'zan here! What kind of dishonourable fool would I be if I left the child to rot in the ground where it laid? I will take care of it myself."

"But..." Kaur'an protested.

"I have spoken!" retorted Qui'aleen, cutting Kaur'an off. "I will raise the child as if he were of our own blood. He is a survivor. He is worthy of our clan."

Kaur'an drew a breath, preparing to speak, but instead he simply nodded. "Very well. And as for Vae'zan?"

"We will find him one day. And we will destroy him!"

Kaur'an nodded and carrying the bodies of their fallen brothers, the pack set off through the jungle to find their pods. They would return home to their pack, but the day would come when they would search for the traitor Vae'zan.

_The hunt is on._


	2. Chapter 1: Growth

_[Author's note: Thanks for the support to those who gave reviews, it helps knowing I'm not doing something terribly wrong :). Anyhow, apologies for taking so long in getting another chapter in, in my defence, the last semester of university has been the worst and most work-filled I have ever had. Seriously, if work could kill you, I would have been killed, zombified then re-killed from that! :S At any rate, thanks for reading and please review so I know what I'm doing right or wrong :).]_

**Chapter 1:**

**Growth**

The rainforest floor yielded many a reward for hungry animals passing by. The sweetest fruits dropped to the floor attracted all manner of beast to seek the delicious meal.

From behind a wall of bushes, eyes watched the animals moving on the forest floor. Many a beast as there may have been, only one creature tempted these eyes.

A large beast which stood on all four of its legs feasted on the fallen fruit. Though it was not a carnivorous predator, it was clear this creature had evolved to defend itself against any enemy that it faced. Four large horns protruded from its skull, two facing forward for ramming, and the other two pointing outwards with razor sharp edges for slicing. Its hide was thick, its bones strong, and its will to live was fierce.

From behind the bushes, the eyes noted scars on the dark grey hide and small chips in the yellow-white horns – a battle-hardened creature indeed. The beast was of a greater size than the rest of its kind, meaning that before the unseen eyes lay an aggressive alpha male.

The animal paused and swayed its small ears about attentively as the rumbling of leaves sounded for a split second before fading. The eyes behind the bush shot a glance to the left, then to the right. The hunter's pack-members were ready, and so was it.

The hunter waited a moment, watching the beast as it returned to its feast. The great animal moved slowly closer to the hunter, eating the forest's boon as it moved.

_Nearly_. Thought the hunter. _Just a few steps closer._

The beast slowly paced forward, its head down as it ate.

A hand fell upon the hunter's shoulder and so it craned its neck to look up at its elder. The elder gave the hunter a nod and blew a whistle which sounded like a faint bird call.

_Now._

The hunter sprang forth from the bushes, its four fellow unblooded warriors darting to action from other parts of the dense bushes thus that the beast was surrounded with hunters closing in from all sides. Flecks of sun glinted off their masks as they ran. All the animals on the forest floor fled for their lives. All but one.

The hunter charged the beast head on, his spear in-hand. The beast's size dawned upon the warrior as he charged, for it stood taller than him even when on all-fours. Though it dwarfed the unblooded hunter, he charged on. Just as his spear was almost upon it, the beast reared up, kicking its legs about. A heavy foot connected with the hunter's shoulder, sending him flying back, his spear falling from his hands. He lay winded upon the moist floor, watching his fellow warriors attack the beast. Their spears seemed to do naught but graze the surface of the beast's flesh. Its hide was too thick. It flailed its head around, slicing the arm of one of the warriors, spilling some droplets of bright green blood on the floor. It agressively reared up again. The hunter still lay on the ground with wind slowly returning to his lungs. It was then he noticed a soft patch of flesh on the underside of the brute. The hunter knew that its heart lay just above the soft, vulnerable patch and that this was the pack's only hope of victory.

The beast turned its back to the fallen hunter, focusing its attention on his fellow unblooded warriors. It struck at them, charging and slashing the blade-like horns on its head about. The hunter watched as one of his pack was knocked to the ground, a wound on his pack mate's chest sending blood trickling forth. The other warriors were cut off from the hunter's fallen comrade. They tried desperately to grab its attention, stabbing at it and making loud noises while waving their hands about. The brute cared not for the other members, it wanted to put an end to the pack, one member at a time, focusing on the most vulnerable member first – just as years of defence and battle had taught it.

The hunter knew that he needed to help his fallen pack member before it was too late. The beast continued to move forward, preparing to end the life of the warrior who could do naught but scramble backwards upon the ground. The hunter summoned all his strength, rolling onto his belly and pushed himself up, slowly returning to his feet. He bent down and picked up his fallen spear, and then giving off a battle cry, he charged. The beast raised a lumbering foot, preparing to bring it crashing down on the fallen warriors head.

Onwards the hunter ran, his body slicing through the air with speed that could only be summoned from such a crisis that faced him. The beast's ear twitched as it heard his thundering footsteps. It turned its head in time to see him leaping through the air, his spear raised high. He crashed into the hulking beast with such force that even it, with all its weight, stumbled from the collision. Though the spear did little against the tough skin of the beast, the act gave the hunter's fellow warriors enough time to grab the fallen unblooded one and drag him from danger.

The hunter stood, facing the beast head on, his spear tipped in its blood. It grunted and fixing its orange eyes on the hunter, it gave off a loud bellow. Its legs sprang to life, charging the hunter. He followed suit, running on a head-on collision course with the creature. When its piercing horns were ten paces before him, he dived feet first thus that he slid upon his back. The creature did not know what to do against such a move, and so it kept on running in the hopes of trampling his body. He continued to slide upon the slippery, leaf and moss covered ground. The soft patch of flesh was in sight. He knew this was his chance to finish the beast here and now. He readied himself and just when the beast was almost upon him, he thrust the spear in the direction of its vulnerable underside. The spear seemed to glide towards its target, its piercing tip moving ever closer to victory or to ruin. All was a blur to the hunter as the hulking mass passed over him. He felt the impact of his spear making contact as it was torn from his grip, the beast's feet narrowly missing his body as it passed him.

He looked back at the creature. The spear was protruding from its chest, blood dripping gracefully down the shaft. The spear had failed to hit any vital organs. The beast simply placed a foot on the shaft and walking backwards, it slowly dragged the weapon from its body, grunting and roaring as it did so. It gave off a roar which thundered through the hollows of the forest, sending birds fleeing from the tree tops. The beast was now frenzied with a desire to do nothing but destroy the hunter who had wounded it. Its eyes glowed with a foreboding terror, the orange within them now glazed with furious hatred.

The hunter's fellow warriors returned to the fight, stabbing and slashing with their spears, but the beast cared not for them, only for its new nemesis. As a warrior got too close, the beast tossed its head to the side, knocking the warrior to the ground with tremendous force.

It ran lumbered towards the hunter once again, but this time the hunter had no weapon with which to defend himself. Seeing the peril that the hunter was in, one of his fellow warriors ran to his aid, tossing him a sword and standing side by side with him, the fighters spear in an attack-ready position. The creature brought its pace to a run, its eyes burning with the need for destruction. Saliva dribbled from its mouth, falling backwards in thin strands as the beast ran. Its body was but a few paces from the two warriors. At the last minute, the warrior brandishing the spear made a thrust towards the beast's eyes, causing it to rear up on its hind legs. The hunter took this opportunity. He knew this was it. He had one chance. One shot at victory or death would be his. He ran towards the beast at full speed. The beast prepared to bring its front feet thundering down on his vulnerable body. It tossed its head forward, preparing to send all of its weight crashing down. Time itself seemed to slow as his sword cut a path through the air as he drove it towards the beast. With a wail of pain, the sword slid into the gargantuan's chest, spilling blood across the hunter's hands. The blade had struck the beasts heart. As it roared, the warrior holding the spear drove his weapon into the roof of its mouth, piercing its brain and killing it instantly.

From the bushes an elder appeared, his mask painted with the scars of former battles. The hunter drew his sword from the beast's chest and stood before the elder. "Qui'aleen," he said with a bow. "The beast is slain."

Qui'aleen gave the warrior a nod. "You have all done well. Stand proud knowing what you have achieved this day. With every kill, you all grow closer to readiness for your Kainde Amedha Chiva."

The warriors raised their weapons in the air and gave a cheer before setting to work on claiming the fallen beast's skull. As the hunter whose hand still clasped the sword turned to help his comrades, a hand fell upon his shoulder. He looked up at Qui'aleen who spoke in a voice soft enough that the others could not hear. "You make me proud, Tygrhen. Though you were not born a Yautja, through your determination you are more than worthy of the title."

Tygrhen gave a bow of gratitude to the clan leader before returning to the task of salvaging the fresh corpse. The clan leader's words warmed his heart as he approached his brothers. Though he had been in existence for but ten years, they had not been easy. Though he had been acknowledged as a member of the clan by Qui'aleen, not all had accepted a human as worthy of standing by their side as part of their tribe. He would often see them staring at him through the corners of his eyes, and hear them whispering comments about the "Pyode Amedha". Many of the unblooded warriors who were around his age did not look kindly upon him. Even those with whom he hunted the beast whose corpse he approached often reluctantly stood by his side on a hunt. One member of the clan in particular had taken a savage disliking to him.

He stood at the now severed head of the beast and offered his help to the unblooded ones. The warrior who had given his sword to Tygrhen before standing by his side against the beast now crouched with the creature's head before him. He shot a bitter glance at Tygrhen before coldly saying, "Not from you."

"As you wish, Kraezak," replied Tygrhen coolly. He was used to the pure hatred from this clan member, and chose not to let it give pause to his thoughts any longer. He simply chose to limit the amount of time he had to stand in Kraezak's presence.

Kraezak returned to peeling the flesh from the beast's skull with his laser cutter. "You can assist us you wish," offered Vey'lek, a fellow unblooded hunter.

Tygrhen nodded in appreciation and moved to assist his clanmate. Vey'lek and his brother, Tor'wick, had never judged Tygrhen negatively. To them, he was simply another Yautja – albeit one with a strange mouth and odd blue eyes and not to mention hair which would not meld in the same fashion as Yautja hair. They cared not for these superficial flaws though. "Tygrhen," said Tor'wick, still holding the fresh wound on his chest. "My thanks to you for helping me when I was down."

Tygrhen gave the unblooded one a nod. "Any time, my brother."

Qui'aleen watched on as the young pack worked. His mind wandered back to the night he returned to his home planet, the human babe cradled in his arms. Being the clan leader, he had a life mate who served as the clan's matriarch. As he returned to his clan's camp with the baby, opinions were divided. Some thought the decision was a poor one, though others respected him for abiding to Yautja honour.

The matriarch, Maevrithia, had argued at length with Qui'aleen in private. Her objection to the matter was further enhanced by the couple's newly born son, Kraezak. She did not want any rivalry between her son and the human. Qui'aleen had given Maevrithia the human baby to hold. He told her that if she wanted it to disappear, she had only to walk outside and desert it in the wilderness herself. She had looked down at the baby now cradled in her arms and stared deep into its eyes. She gently brushed a finger along the cut over the babe's eye, to which it responded by outstretching a hand and grappling onto her finger. She could not bring herself to let the baby die, and so yielded to Qui'aleen's desire to raise the child.

Knowing no other means of feeding the baby, she fed it as she did her own son – with her own milk. Qui'aleen had encountered humans on many occasions and had even studied them for a time and therefore knew their limits. However, as he saw the boy grow, he noticed the child's strength, speed and overall effectiveness grow beyond that of most humans – even those in their prime. As the boy grew, so too did his abilities. Qui'aleen attributed it to the feeding of Yautja milk at such a young and malleable age. It was a pleasant surprise for him nevertheless. He believed that Tygrhen needed to know of his people, and so he tasked himself with teaching the boy the human's primary language. Tygrhen would occasionally grow frustrated with the learning of what he deemed to be useless information, but Qui'aleen taught him nonetheless.

While the child grew, so too did the hatred that Kraezak felt towards him. Qui'aleen oftentimes found himself playing the guardian making sure that the two did not break out in an impetuous duel to the death. He feared what would happen upon his passing from the mortal world, for he knew that of the Yautja in his clan, it was these two that would grow to be the strongest. It was their rivalry which made their strength grow, as each constantly wanted to best the other in the eyes of their clansmen. And so they would push themselves to their limits and beyond, enduring what few their age would subject themselves to. Though their hatred for one another burned ever strong, when faced with enemies beyond their strength alone they laid pause to their dispute while the foe was overcome.

Qui'aleen broke free of his reminiscing as two blooded Yautja of his clan appeared. They approached the felled beast and after congratulating the young warriors, assisted in binding the corpse to the central length of wood. They helped the unblooded hunters in carrying the great beast's body back to the camp thus that the clan could feast upon its juicy flesh.

The company marched triumphantly into the campsite, their boon carried with great effort. Other members of the clan moved in to take the body, leaving the young ones to massage their sore shoulders and stretch their backs. Though Maevrithia had once looked poorly on Tygrhen, her pride and affection towards him grew as he did until she simply saw him as another son. She saw red blood smeared across Tygrhen's arms. Were it any other clan member it would be easy to see that the blood did not belong to them. She hurriedly approached the boy and stood before him as her eyes scanned him for wounds. "The blood is not mine. I was kicked on the chest but my armour saved my body from any serious harm."

She nodded in relief and took his mask off before doing the same for Kraezak.

Night fell, and when it did, life flooded the camp. Fires danced under slabs of the cooked beast while music filled the air.

Tygrhen sat on a log by the fire, eating the tender flesh of his kill. He found himself looking up at the night sky. Qui'aleen noticed the boy staring at the stars. He watched as Tygrhen stroked his hand over the scar that covered his right eye and the clan leader knew instantly what the boy was thinking. He moved through the lively mass, taking a seat next to Tygrhen. He looked at the boy and simply said, "Soon, my child. Soon."

Tygrhen nodded and went back to his meal. He knew that he had numerous years left before he would be allowed to undertake the trials. He would train until he was beyond ready, for when he completed the trials, he would hunt down and destroy the traitor who shamed not only him, but the entire clan. He listened in when members of other clans were around. From the news he heard, it seemed that the traitor Vae'zan had become most adept at slaying his own kind. Tygrhen was determined though. He would slay Vae'zan or die trying.

He looked to the stars once more, knowing that Vae'zan was out there, but in the shadows of space something far more sinister lurked. It lay in the maw of darkness with greedy eyes set on wreaking utter destruction. It lusted for blood and desired conquest. And in the shadows it waited like a spider in a web, preparing to strike.


	3. Chapter 2: A Promise of Blood and Glory

_[Author's note: Thanks once again for the support people :) At any rate, here it is - the next instalment. I really need to write faster, but then again it was holiday season and I'm tackling another fanfic at the same time. If people don't like where the story is heading in some aspects or think some ideas are not welcome ones etc, just let me know. I don't want to aggravate any of the AvP fans after all if an idea is severely disliked.]_

**Chapter 2:**

**A Promise of Blood and Glory**

The years passed quickly for Tygrhen. Training both his body and his mind consumed most of his time. He frequently went on hunts, learning new tricks by studying his elders. All the while, Qui'aleen saw to the task of teaching Tygrhen human speech. The boy soon perfected it, speaking it as fluently as any Earth-born human.

While Tygrhen only stood at a height of six feet and three inches, he still maintained strength equal to any Yautja male of the same age. Being smaller than his brothers, he had greater agility and speed to his Yautja counterparts. Having the stamina endurance of his clansmen, he could outrun many of the beasts which most hunters simply gave up on if their initial strike failed. He would often practice his long range hunting skills by frightening the quicker animals then chasing them. He would do it for mere practice, so after tackling them down and capturing them he would simply release them.

News of frequent attacks on Yautja tribes was spreading through the clans. At first it was but individuals who were being slain. Their bodies would be found with injuries dealt by Yautja weaponry. There was only one incidence where a fallen Yautja's mask was recovered. The video feed of the warrior's last moments was reviewed and from this it was evident that Vae'zan was the culprit. Tribes sent out hunting parties to search for the bad blood, each warrior hoping to gain the glory of slaying the infamous warrior. It was then things took a turn for the worse, for those who entered the great hunt never returned. As time progressed, outlying communities started to disappear and none knew why. No bodies were found, nor any clue as to what had happened. Times were growing desperate as tribes argued amongst each other, blaming one another for the abductions. The very news of Vae'zan provided reason enough for Tygrhen to push himself to his limits and beyond with his training. The new threat lingering on the darkened horizon of a setting sun exacerbated his desire for growing in strength and ability.

Tygrhen lay awake on the floor of his dwelling. It had been several years since he and Kraezak moved out of their shared parent's hut, obtaining a domicile of their own. Though they were in the same camp and thus still nearby, it was more the act of acquiring a humble abode of their own that symbolised growing independence and maturity.

A chill swept up Tygrhen's arm. Bad dreams of late had haunted his rest, vexing his sleep in a web of differing emotions. He did not know why his mind was so restless, only that a heightened sense of things told him some great evil lingered on the horizon. His dreams were consumed by the unwanted promise of death and destruction. As he closed his eyes once again, he saw the silhouette of a figure, its features darkened by the presence of a starless sky. It stood silently, its body wreathed in the blood of Tygrhen's kin. Distant screams broke the silence while an echoing voice sounded in the deep. His eyes shot open again and once more he found himself staring at the ceiling of his hut. His highly tuned hunter's ears picked up the sound of voices. They were speaking softly, so the words were mostly inaudible. He sat up, trying to listen. He moved closer to the entrance of his dwelling and poked a head out, checking that no one else was present to foil his eavesdropping.

The site was still, the only two who were in sight were those who were conversing. Qui'aleen stood by the glowing coal of a dying campfire, another Yautja standing before him. Tygrhen did not recognise the other who was clad in attire of a formal appearance. He wore colourful cloth material under much of his armour which was adorned with intricate carvings, giving a refined appearance. Upon a closer look, he saw the tribal symbol carved into the Yautja's shoulder armour. He was of another clan. 'A passer-by or trader perhaps?' thought Tygrhen.

The words spoken by the two became more distinct as Tygrhen tuned his ears on the conversation. "Tribes are disappearing more frequently now," spoke the unidentified Yautja. "Entire communities are vanishing. Small ships are now being targeted. The Yautja High Council is asking for the presence of all tribal leaders on our capital planet."

"To what end?" asked Qui'aleen. "Have they any idea what we are dealing with?"

The emissary shook his head. "No, not yet. They are asking for the cooperation of all tribes. I know not their plans; I am here only to ask for your presence. You lead one of the larger clans, with seven sister tribes spurring from your clan's roots. In this village alone you've over fifty members."

"When am I expected to arrive?"

"We will send word closer to the date. There is much organising to be done beforehand."

"And if I do not show up?" queried Qui'aleen.

"We will not force you, if that is what you are asking. The threat is very real though and it is for the interest of all Yautja that this summoning is made," the messenger paused for a moment. "And regretfully, I must inform you that the attacks are drawing nearer to this world. If no action is made then you and your people will suffer the same fate as those who have vanished."

Tygrhen sank back into his hut, his heart heavy with the news of an impending attack. Questions flooded his mind. He wanted to rush outside and question the emissary until his curiosity had been sated. Instead he merely lay back down and continued staring at the ceiling of his dwelling. Sleep eventually claimed him into its warm embrace.

The first light of dawn soon broke the darkness of the night. As the sun rose, so too did those within the camp. The camp was soon once again alive with movement.

Tygrhen's sleep was broken by a clan member poking his head into the room and speaking in a loud voice, so as to make sure Tygrhen was awake. "Qui'aleen wishes to see you."

Tygrhen gave a nod before hastily getting ready and moving out into the bustling camp. He weaved in and out of the crowded ground, trying to avoid colliding with anyone. His shoulder connected with that of a clansman who shot Tygrhen a foul look. "Watch yourself, Ooman!" he said gruffly before walking away and speaking softly to himself. "Damned Pyode Amedha."

Tygrhen had learnt to pay no attention to such comments. There were still those who accepted him, but to the greatest degree he would always be the outcast of the society. Many who _did_ accept him did so out of naught but pity.

He found Qui'aleen standing with a small group of unblooded warriors. Kraezak, Vey'lek and Tor'wick were there, as were two other unblooded warriors. Tygrhen rarely had any interaction with the other two, but he knew them as Torl and Ar'bax. Qui'aleen gave him a nod as he stood with the other unblooded ones.

"Good, then you are all here," started Qui'aleen. "You have all grown to be fine warriors, but now the time has come for you to prove your worth as hunters and true clan members. Tomorrow we will travel by ship to your hunting ground. It lies on a planet not far from here. It is there you will face the serpents, and it is there you will die honourably or forever join the ranks of the exalted warriors of our clan. Should you survive and claim victory, honour will be yours. You will be marked with the symbol of our clan – the symbol carried by our forefathers. Now go, prepare what you must, for we leave tomorrow."

The young bloods moved on from the area, an amalgamation of emotions stirring within them. Excitement was foremost felt, with small hints of fear and concern thrown into the mixture. Tygrhen's excitement spurred from the fact that he saw this as his chance to prove himself worthy in the eyes of his clan and his father.

Vey'lek and Tor'wick walked with Tygrhen through the camp. "Can you believe it?" said an excited Vey'lek. "We're finally going to become real warriors!"

"I know," said Tygrhen with a smile. "But it will be unlike anything we've hunted before."

"We'll be fine," said Tor'wick. "You'll see. In a few days time, we'll return to this world as the finest warriors in all the clans."

"Well _we_ will," Vey'lek placed a hand on Tygrhen's shoulder. "But you, I'm not so sure about," he said light-heartedly.

"What's that supposed to mean," queried Tor'wick.

"You've stabbed yourself with your own wrist-blades twice now."

"That was an accident; anyone could have done the same!"

Vey'lek held up two fingers. "Twice," he repeated with a laugh.

Tor'wick paused for a moment, his eyes set on Vey'lek. He could hold a serious face no more, and simply laughed while playfully chasing his brother who fled, giggling as he ran. Tygrhen stood watching the two, laughing as they weaved through clan members, almost knocking into many of them.

Tygrhen spent much of the day's remainder helping with minor chores around the camp. He eventually found himself walking just past the outskirts of the campsite to a secluded area. He stood at the edge of the jungle, the sounds of the site now distant. He had taken with him a simple wooden spear with a metal head. He stood in a battle-ready stance and started to swing the spear around. He spun it in circles, slicing and thrusting it into the air while pretending he was in an actual battle. He used a tree as a target, carving pieces of bark from its great trunk as the spear swung into action. He trained until he heard the faintest crack. He paused in his action and simply stood, his ears searching for any signs of noise. He started to return to a battle-ready stance when he felt a hand cover his mouth and the points of two wrist-blades against his back. He could not move, for if he tried he would be skewered where he stood.

"This is how easily they can kill you," said a familiar voice.

Tygrhen was released from the grip. He quickly turned to see who it was, taking a step back as he did so. He saw the recognizable stocky build and dark orange skin with dark brown mottling. "Kaur'an," he said. "But where did you come from?"

The great hunter took no notice of his words. "The serpents will strike from the darkness. They will try to separate your pack, and they will most likely succeed. They will kill you one by one or capture you to expand their hive. Stab them, and their very blood can claim your life or render your limbs useless. They are like nothing you have seen before. They are like the very shadows themselves. They are like the darkness of night, animated by vile sorcery! This is why you must be vigilant, boy. You must keep your wits about you or have your brains strewn across the floor in front of you. If you keep the pack together and all work as one rather than as many you will return with your life and honour."

"Why are you telling me this? Why not the others?" queried Tygrhen.

"You are all terrible at listening to what you are told, but _they_ are worse."

"Thanks," Tygrhen muttered sarcastically. He was somewhat grateful for the statement though, for he knew that for Kaur'an that was as much praise as would be given.

"Keep them at range, do not let their blood touch you, and always watch your back," Kaur'an gave Tygrhen a nod before walking back to the settlement.

As night began to fall, toasts were made to the unblooded ones who were soon to set off on their journey. The toast was spoken by Qui'aleen himself, speaking of the honour that awaited all the unblooded warriors. He made a prayer for the warriors safe return, and that should any fall, their spirits be accepted into the protection of the gods.

As the night wore on, stories were told and campfires burned with a warm grace. Tygrhen retired to his dwelling earlier than the others, for the many sleepless nights he had experienced had wearied him greatly. He expected another night of broken sleep and dark dreams, but instead was graced with the blessing of a good night's rest. Luck was on his side that night; for he would need all the rest he could muster in what was to come.

Morning came and without delay he packed all that he would need. The weapons the unblooded ones would use were on the ship, as was various parts of their armour. He opened his bag and packed his body mesh – the equipment used to regulate body temperatures and assist in the cloaking field. He picked up his face mask and brushed some flecks of dirt from its surface, his fingers rubbing over the small bumps and grooves in the cold metal. The mask was a poor fit, feeling very uncomfortable on his face and having to be held on with extra reinforcement in the form of a strap wrapping around the back of his head. He knew that being human, it was an honour that he was simply allowed to wear one. His mind still contemplated the thought of making himself a mask of his own for a better fit. He had learnt much about Yautja technology and often surprised many of the great hunters at his tech savvy nature. He would oftentimes sit and help his clansmen in their repairs – that is, the ones who did not hate him. Finishing his packing, he soon walked outside into the settlement to see that clan members had started to gather for the farewell.

Maevrithia saw him emerge from his dwelling and approached him. She ran her hand down the back of his light brown hair in a motherly fashion. She knew naught about human hair, but found it strange how it grew so quickly. She noticed that he seemed to cut it monthly, keeping it at shoulder length. "You have grown strong. I have no doubts that you will return alive and victorious," she had in her hand a pendant of some sort. She wrapped it around Tygrhen's neck. "It will guard you in the days to come."

He looked down at it. It was a chunk of metal which had been carved into the figure of a warrior, the clan's symbol etched into the figure's chest. "Although you were not born by me, you _are_ my son," she said.

"Thank you, mother," he smiled before embracing her in a hug.

They walked together to Qui'aleen. He stood with Kaur'an by his side, the two facing the group of unblooded warriors who had assembled. Tor'wick was the last to arrive. When he reached the group Qui'aleen said some words and those who had gathered cheered for the group. Maevrithia stood between Tygrhen and Kraezak. She pulled them closer to her for a moment. "May you both return safely and with honour. You make me proud. Both of you," she let them go from her grip.

She watched on as the group moved on, following Qui'aleen to the shuttle which lay in a clearing outside the main camp. From there, they would be ferried onto the carrier ship.

As they progressed through the jungle, the sounds of the crowd grew fainter and fainter, until they were no longer audible. Smooth leaves brushed gently against Tygrhen's cheeks and arms as he walked. At last, the company found their way into the clearing, where their transport awaited. There were two other Yautja standing by. Qui'aleen walked up to the first one and they grabbed one another's forearms in greetings before he did the same with the second hunter. He beckoned the unblooded warriors over, and they all entered the transport.

Tygrhen walked in, looking at every detail of it with astonishment. He had never been inside one before. The door had been closed, and thus the air was a little stuffy. The backs of the seats were lined across the small vessels inner flanks.

Tygrhen stood by one of the seats near the front, unsure if he should take a seat or if they were designated. "Take a seat," said Qui'aleen, nodding towards one.

Tygrhen sat down. Qui'aleen saw the eagerness and anxiety in Tygrhen's eyes which darted around the vessel's interior. The elder stood before him, inspecting some buttons overhead. "I didn't know what to expect my first time in a ship either," he said, looking down at Tygrhen. "How are you feeling?"

He looked into the elder's yellow eyes and smiled. "Excited."

Qui'aleen gave a chuckle and patted a hand down on Tygrhen's shoulder before heading into the cockpit with Kaur'an and the two other Yautja. Once everyone had taken their seats and placed their chest harnesses on, the vessel's engines flicked on. Tygrhen rubbed his hand over the animal skin which covered the lightly padded seats. The fur was bristly yet smooth. His eyes widened, as did all the unblooded warriors as the sound grew louder. "I'll tell you what would be funny?" asked Vey'lek rhetorically to his fellow unblooded ones. "If we crashed and all died here right now!"

There was an awkward silence for a moment as everyone looked at Vey'lek whose mandibles were open in a Yautja smile. Tor'wick turned his head to the right, looking at his brother. "How is that funny?"

"Well..." Vey'lek considered for a moment. "I suppose it isn't actually funny at all is it?" he sounded surprised.

The unblooded ones laughed, but Kraezak simply shook his head and looked back out one of the thick glass windows. Tygrhen felt strange as the great lumbering vessel slowly rose from the ground. The foliage and trees shook as the thrusters power kicked in. The ship was airborne, slowly rising and then picking up speed. Tygrhen looked out across the jungle below. It was a blur of brilliant greens, slowly fading away as they entered cloud cover. Nothing but grey and white water vapour greeted their vision until they soon reached a sight which took their breath away. Space. Dark with the stars against it, the green and blue planet swirling beneath them. It was like a dark carpet with the finest gems tossed across it. It was as a majestic hunter donned in magnificent armour – cold and dangerous, yet in its own right it was beautiful.

It wasn't long before they boarded the larger ship in orbit. As they stepped out into the cargo hold, Tygrhen could not help but smile at the sight. To most, there was naught before the group than crates, supplies and the metal interior of the ship. To Tygrhen, however, this was the vessel that would take him to glory and acceptance. In his heart it was all he truly wanted. To be accepted. Even Qui'aleen had never called him 'son'. He believed that Qui'aleen kept him alive not for love but only for his own honour's sake. Grateful as he was for this, he needed a father. He was determined that he would win his father's love, and that of the clan.

His steps made light tapping sounds against the metal as he walked through the halls. He was shown to his room which consisted of a mat upon the floor with a head rest and blanket, a table, and a chest. It was not much, but to him, it was home for now. His mind was restless with anticipation. He wanted the test to begin. He knew it would come soon enough though, and with it a red dawn. A dawn filled with the blood of his enemies and the love of his people. He smiled to himself, knowing that soon it would be so.


	4. Chapter 3: Across the Stars

_[Author's note: Apologies for the late completion of the next instalment. The final year at university is taking its toll on all social activities, however, this is the next chapter for you all. If people still like the story/where it is heading, by all means let me know, reviewing the chapters is how I know you're all still interested in the story :). Anyhow, if there are any suggestions or things that people would really like to see in the story, I will do my best to incorporate it into what I have planned. Enjoy!]_

**Chapter 3:**

**Across the Stars**

Tygrhen found it hard to conceal his excitement. Having never seen anything like the ship he was currently on, he did not pass up the opportunity to explore its many rooms. He walked through the corridors and peered into many of the sections he was able to access.

As he would pass by crew members, they would either walk by as if there were nothing strange about him, or more often than not, they would stare at him with a sense of disdain as he passed them by, mutter to themselves or two crewmates beside them.

He was walking along a lengthy hallway when he felt a hand tapping against his arm. He turned to see an equally enthusiastic Vey'lek standing before him, Tor'wick just behind. "You need to see this."

He followed them back along the corridor. They stopped as the lights started to flicker for a moment. As the vessel rumbled slightly, he placed a hand against the cold metal wall to maintain his stability. The vessel rumbled again. Tygrhen felt a touch of anxiety as the three stood in silence, wondering what just happened. They continued to walk through the metal halls, until they reached a lift. They stepped inside and the doors slid shut. Tygrhen still wasn't used to the sudden movement of the lift, and by the looks on his comrades' faces, he deduced that neither had they.

The lift stopped moving and the door slid open again, revealing the control room. There were several Yautja sitting before screens and many others moving across the room. Several paces in front of him lay the main control panel, where those of higher rank sat, controlling the crucial systems of the ship. As he walked into the room he saw that the room had two levels. There were stairs to his flanks leading to the lower level where more screens and technological devices were located. The room was strange, for the top level was not like a separate layer to the level below, but rather it was as if a part of the lower level had simply been raised to a plateau-like area.

A giant window consumed the front of the room. Tygrhen moved closer, looking at the ship's hull outside the window and the wonders which lay beyond its metal plating. His eyes were wide and his mouth open at the sight that was before him, for beyond the window lay something the likes of which he had never seen. It lay in front of the ship, floating in the darkness of space. It was a mass of colour. Intense blue mixed with purple slowly swirling through its great shapeless mass. Flickers of neon blue lightning streaked all across its gaseous form. Qui'aleen approached the three with a subtle spark of happiness in his eyes at the sight of their exhilaration. "It is an ion storm," he said, noting that their eyes flicked towards him for only a moment before darting back to the magnificent view.

"Why did we drop out of hyperspace?" asked Tygrhen.

The happiness in Qui'aleen's eyes dissipated into a more solemn gaze. "We received a distress signal from a smaller vessel. They came under attack and are stranded in the storm. We shall have to enter it, and so some of the ship's systems may suffer some slight malfunctions, but all the vital systems will remain operational."

"So we're going through it?" queried Tor'wick.

"Indeed," nodded Qui'aleen.

"But isn't that dangerous? We'll be vulnerable, won't we?" concern started to veil Tor'wick's thoughts in a blanket of anxiety.

The elder chuckled. "Fear not, young one. There are no enemies nearby, nor any other threat that need concern you. Systems will return to normal once we've passed through it."

"How do you know there aren't enemies? Who attacked them? What if they come back or what if this is a trap?"

Kaur'an stepped away from the control panel he was checking, standing next to Qui'aleen. "Calm yourself, were there any chance of our ship being damaged I'd be the first to object to this plan. Our scanners can detect no enemy presence. As for the ship we must rescue, it has been damaged in the battle and is now emitting minimal energy signatures."

"Minimal energy signatures? What does that mean?" asked Tygrhen.

"It means their ship has no power. They are lucky we received their call, or else they'd have run out of air and surely perished."

Qui'aleen turned to Kaur'an. "Prepare the docking bay, once we are in the ion storm we'll have to fire grapple cables to reel them in."

Kaur'an gave the elder a nod before returning to his control panel.

The ship steadily moved onwards, the ion storm closing in. The great colourful mass touched the tip of the ship's bow. As the cloud-like storm crept towards the window, the three unblooded warriors stepped back a pace or two. The ship's lights flickered as did the screens. The lights gave one last flicker before shutting off. Some safety lights were still operational, but they provided a dim glow at best. It did not matter, however, for blue light poured into the room from the window. The colour intensified into the most brilliant shades Tygrhen had ever seen. He stepped forward, his eyes set on the window. He slowly came to the railing, where he leaned over to see the lower level just beneath him. Many of the crew were looking out the window as well. He looked back up as the ship was fully engulfed by the storm. Tygrhen shot a hand out to the railing and grasped onto it as the vessel rumbled. The other crewmembers did not seem to have any problems with the trembling. Tor'wick carefully placed one foot before the other as he approached Tygrhen, coming to a standstill on his clan-mate's left side and grappling onto the railing as well. Vey'lek followed suit, standing to the right of Tygrhen, he too held the railing with a tight grip in case the ship shook again.

As the vessel passed into the centre of the storm, the rumbling ceased and a magnificent view unfolded. It was as if they were in a hollow sphere, the storm spiralling around them.

Lightning flickered through the inside of the storm, illuminating the cloud-like structure in flashes of light. The blues and purples melded together, slowly moving as if a great invisible hand gently stirred them. A bolt of electricity arced through the sphere, just in front of the screen, causing the unblooded ones to jump slightly before smiling at the brilliant sight. Qui'aleen came alongside the three, standing with them. The calmness of the crew and of their elder seemed to permeate into the air around them, calming the nerves of the three young hunters. As every trace of anxiety left their bodies, they could truly marvel at the pulsating colours and arcing lightning. The thunder and lightning created muffled booming sounds and a low pitched echo with each burst, like listening to an explosion underwater.

The damaged ship soon came into their view. It was much smaller than the great vessel they currently resided upon. The stranded ship was only large enough to carry and house a crew of approximately ten. Small pieces of metal debris littered the area around the damaged craft which floated amidst the storm. Their great ship slowly eased towards the damaged vessel. Qui'aleen and Kaur'an shouted a few orders as the ship passed over the stranded craft. It had moved out of sight, but below the ship, grapple lines had shot out before reeling it in.

The three young hunters enjoyed the last of the colours as the ship passed through the storm. The rumbling stopped and the lights came back online. The crew went back to work, pressing buttons on screens and checking the ship's diagnostics to make sure all was well. The three young ones still held on to the railing, looking out the window before stepping back. Vey'lek and Tor'wick had their top two mandibles open in a Yautja smile. Tygrhen's smile was still wide on his face as he looked at the other two. "Let's do it again!" said Vey'lek.

Some of the crew close by chuckled while shaking their heads, as did Qui'aleen who patted the young one's shoulder and moved back to the main control panel. Kaur'an joined the elder, also checking some of the systems.

Qui'aleen pressed a button on one of the boards nearby, opening up a communications line with the engineering bay. "Are we ready to jump back into hyperspace yet?"

"Not yet, we need to run some checks before engaging the hyperdrive systems," answered a voice.

"Very well," replied Qui'aleen. "Let us know when we may proceed."

Tor'wick stepped closer to Qui'aleen. "Could we see the engineering bay?"

Kaur'an interjected before an answer could be given. "The engineering room is no place for youths."

"He is right," nodded Qui'aleen.

The three stared at the elder with look which was an amalgamation of an innocent curiosity to explore the ship and sadness at the possibility they may not get the chance to do so. The elder muttered a curse under his breath. "Very well," he yielded. "But do not touch anything and do not get in the way of those at work down there."

"Yes, sir, we won't!" Tor'wick's face lit up as the others nodded in agreement.

The three could not contain their excitement as they made their way down the lift and through the ship's many twisting corridors. Tor'wick's pace quickened, forcing the other two to keep up. He had always had an obsession for technology and had strived to learn how every piece of equipment available in his home settlement worked. He knew how to effectively repair and create equipment using improvised spare parts.

As they walked through the hallways, there was increased traffic from fellow clansmen as they drew closer to the room. They soon reached the engineering section, standing at the door of the great room. Pipes hugged closely to the wall on one side, accompanied by a few large, thick pipes running across the high ceiling of the room. Various sections of the ship were raised and a balcony ran along the side of the right wall where power conduits and numerous screens were attached. The room was very large and filled with busy crewmembers, working laboriously to make sure the ship was in good order. One clansman in particular stood out. He was checking the central console connected to the main reactor, raising his head and barking orders at members of the crew every now and then.

The three walked further into the room, their wide eyes taking in all the sights. As they walked further in, they could see a glow emanating from something. They moved in closer and as the obstacles blocking their vision cleared, they saw a brilliant white sphere of red and orange energy in a separate room joined onto the engineering bay. The room the sphere was in had a large glass window, allowing it to be seen. Strands of lightning-like light arced off its surface, touching the walls. The sphere seemed to pulsate slightly, patches stirring on its bright surface. "That's the main reactor core," said Tor'wick, nodding towards the sphere.

The three approached the clansman who was at the primary console, still raising his head to shout an order here and there. He pressed a button on the control panel. "Bridge, this is engineering. Everything appears to be in good order; you may proceed with the jump."

The three young ones heard Qui'aleen's voice on the other end of the line acknowledging the chief engineer. Electricity arced off the glowing orb with a greater ferocity than before as the ship was preparing to enter hyperspace. White glowing white veins slithered across the moving surface of the orb and the ship gently rumbled as it entered the hyperspace wormhole.

Tygrhen approached the chief engineer who seemed to have calmed down somewhat. He was pressing various buttons when he noticed the young hunters approaching. He turned his head to inspect them. "What is it?"

Tygrhen opened his mouth to speak but Tor'wick beat him to it. "We were given permission to see this area of the ship because we've never been on one before. I am interested in learning how it all operates," he said enthusiastically. "If you have the time of course," he quickly added.

The chief engineer studied them for a moment before nodding. "Very well, you may stay for a short time, but should any situation arise you must leave the area at once."

The three agreed and moved in closer to look at the control panel. The chief engineer explained what some of the buttons and commands did and how they affected the ship. Vey'lek leaned in closer to the panel. "What do those buttons do?" he said, moving a finger closer to press them.

The chief engineer slapped the unblooded one's hand away while making a loud noise. "We will need those systems operational if we want to come out of hyperspace in one piece."

"Oh," Vey'lek nodded before looking at a new set of buttons. "What about this lever?" He said, pulling the lever.

Electricity fiercely bolted forth from the glowing orb and a siren sounded before the chief engineer quickly moved the lever back to its original position. "C'jit!" the chief engineer swore aloud. "Damned child, stop touching everything!"

Vey'lek turned away from the console. "I'm hungry."

Tygrhen and Tor'wick looked at one another, shaking their heads.

Tor'wick stayed with the chief engineer, gaining as much knowledge as he could while Tygrhen and Vey'lek made their way to the mess hall. There they sat and ate, speaking with other members of the crew. Many of the Yautja would not speak with the two simply because they found the presence of a human too distasteful. Some even left the room at the sight of him, as was the case with Kraezak who hastily finished his meal and left the room upon first sight of Tygrhen. There were, however, those who thought nothing of it, joining in the conversation. Tor'wick arrived with a bounce to his step, sitting next to his two comrades and soon becoming a part of the discussion taking place.

"The crew of that wrecked ship say they don't know which clan attacked them," said one of the shipmates. "Apparently the ship came in too fast for them to see anything properly."

"How did they even survive?" queried Tygrhen.

"They say they moved into the ion storm and their enemy could not track them, allowing them to survive," answered one of the ship's navigation officers.

"I don't like the sound of it," said Tor'wick. "It sounds as though their escape was a little too convenient."

"I'd have thought the same," started the navigation officer. "I saw the crew myself and I know fear when I see it. Their story is no lie. It is indeed easy to lose a ship in an ion storm, they are a rather small vessel and with electronics being disrupted, their enemy would have had naught but their own eyes to find the ship."

"There are rumours going around the ship," said a crewmate. "They say that whatever the ship we rescued was carrying, the enemy wanted it something fierce!"

Most of those partaking in the conversation nodded and grunted agreements. "Indeed," said another. "I heard that they were carrying some sort of device. Something the ancients made. Something that was so terrible it was lost to the pages of history, and no one ever dared to seek it out again, but you know what they've been saying."

Tygrhen shook his head. "What has who been saying?"

The navigation officer shook his head. "There are those that believe war is upon us and that the high council has sanctioned the retrieval of both pieces of an artefact. No one knows exactly what it is, not even the high council. They just know that there was a great war long ago, a war between our proud forefathers and those who we called the Mala'kak, in which the artefact was used to bring swift victory. Pay no attention to these rumours. They are nothing more than fiction."

Some shook their heads and grumbled objections. The crewmate who spoke before leaned in closer to the unblooded warriors as all those around him fell silent, their ears entwined in the story he spoke of. "Legend has it that long ago our ancestors met the Mala'kak, a race far superior in technology to our own at that point in time. They gave to us technology and saw our race rise to power over the years. It is said that there was the promise of a civil war among the Mala'kak, and that in the act of foresight, one of the two sides sought to create an ally out of our people. This was done so that should any wars break out, they would have the greater chance of victory. As fate would have it, war indeed broke out as one side sought domination of the stars, while the other side sought the preservation of peace in the galaxy. It was the latter who had made of our race an ally."

"So where did the Mala'kak go? Why have we not seen them?" Vey'lek interrupted.

The crewmate held up a hand. "Yes, yes, I'm getting to that. As I was saying, the side that desired control of the galaxy and held our forefather's enmity came to be known as the H'saru by our people. The war did not start well for them, for they were not counting on the prowess of our ancestors. In their desperation, they captured eggs of the Kainde Amedha from their home world, breeding them in captivity and using them as a weapon. The serpents were not always as aggressive as they are now. The H'saru used science to change the beasts, making them lust battle and crave blood. The H'saru sought to further alter the serpents, making soldiers that would comply with orders. They set about the task of building a great science station on which the very essence of a species could be mixed with another. With such a threat at hand, our forefathers and our Mala'kak allies created a powerful weapon. Not much is known of the weapon. It is said that by the time of its completion, our allies had almost all been destroyed. We carried on, unleashing the weapon and wiping out our enemies before they could finish their science station. By the end of the war, all that was left of the Mala'kak people were remnants scattered across the stars. Their race did not survive. The artefact was deemed too powerful, and so it was split into four pieces and spread across the galaxy. It was ordered that it could never be used unless the gravest of threats faced our people."

"And it is believed that the ship we rescued was carrying one of the pieces?" Tor'wick queried.

The navigation officer answered before anyone else could. "As I said, these are but rumours. Think nothing of them. The ship we rescued was most probably attacked by a band of bad bloods that discovered that piracy is more profitable than honourable ways."

"Well what happens now? Are we taking them with us the whole way to the hunting grounds?" asked Vey'lek.

"No," replied the officer. "We must stop at Il'thora and it is there we shall part with them."

"Il'thora?" Tygrhen inquired. Vey'lek and Tor'wick did not know of the name either.

The other crewmembers in the discussion chuckled. "It is the largest space station in the galaxy," one of the clansmen stated. "We will be stopping there to pick up supplies which must be transported to other clans."

"So we're going to other worlds to deliver supplies?" Vey'lek enquired.

"_We_ are," the officer answered. "You and your fellow unblooded warriors will be dropped off at the designated hunting site before our ship delivers the supplies. The other clans we are delivering the supplies to are nearby so we will have returned by the time you have completed your hunt."

They continued their discussion for a great length of time, learning more about Il'thora and the supplies which were soon to be delivered. It soon came time for the unblooded ones to retire to their sleeping quarters for rest. The ship was estimated to reach Il'thora at the end of the following day.

For Tygrhen, sleep came quickly and it was unusually peaceful for the most part. He did have dreams of the hunt which was to come. He pictured himself standing victorious with his brothers, a skull in each of their hands. The dream seemed to take a turn for the worse, however. He suddenly saw himself side by side with his fellow hunters, all packed together in a defensive ring formation, their spears pointing outwards. It was dark, for they were in the heart of their prey's hive. He saw the great serpents everywhere, surrounding the hunters. From the deep a hissing voice sounded. "Now we shall see. Will you be worthy or will you fall? Only the strongest will survive..." the voice sounded female. It seemed to fade away, as if it were moving further into the distance. "Only the strongest."

He woke briefly, his eyes barely opening before closing again and returning to a deep slumber.

The unblooded warriors woke with new-found energy the next day, filling their bellies with a meal before heading up to the bridge. They looked out into the space beyond, seeing the marvel of the space station in distance. Kraezak and the other unblooded warriors soon joined the group on the bridge, watching the Il'thora as their ship drew closer.

Tygrhen stood in awe as the station grew from a small incomprehensible shape in the distance to a giant fortress-like station. From top down, the station had the appearance of a great star with five long, yet somewhat thin arms reaching outwards from the main body of the station, with another five thinner and shorter arms in between these.

As the ship approached Il'thora from side on, Tygrhen thought that the top of the main body looked like the cap of a mushroom – a large semi-circular object. This was joined to four thick, columnar projections, each attached to the edge of the semi-circular top so that they were evenly spaced, looking almost akin to four great fingers. These curved ever so slightly outwards, creating an arched effect on the columns. The bottoms of these four protrusions were attached to what was by far the largest section of the space station, looking like a large spherical structure with various projections, such as the arm-like extensions which gave the station its star shaped appearance. From this, a cylindrical structure ran downwards, eventually ending in what looked like a series of spikes, but were in fact large antenna structures. The cylindrical structure was ringed by large, circular, pad-like constructions, looking somewhat like flattened mushroom caps. From these, ships docked, allowing their crew to enter the huge station.

The station's architecture was similar to that seen of Yautja ships. The metal plating covered Il'thora in a comparable fashion, but neon-blue lights were scattered across the hulking construction. These lights reminded Tygrhen of the ion storm. They ran in strips down some sections of the station, and others were scattered in a speckled fashion, intermixed with the white lights coming from windows which mottled the structure with a series of luminescent speckles.

The ship soon docked, attaching to the side of one of the pad-like structures. "Make preparations for boarding," ordered Qui'aleen. "Obtain the supplies we require and see to it that the crew of the rescued ship are taken care of."

Crewmembers set about relaying the orders and carrying them out. Qui'aleen turned his gaze to the unblooded ones. "If you wish to see the station, you may go with the crew to help with the supplies. Do not venture too far though, and stay in contact."

They nodded and gave many thanks to him as they left the bridge before making their way down the lift and through the winding tunnels of the ship. Vey'lek and Tor'wick followed Tygrhen as he walked hastily down the corridors. The group came to a section of the ship where the corridor split into four paths like a cross. Tygrhen paused for a moment before turning left. His two companions followed, but Vey'lek looked back at the turnoff for a moment before coming up beside Tygrhen. "Isn't the loading bay that way?" he asked, pointing a finger in the direction from which they had just come.

"We aren't going to the loading bay. Not just yet. I want to know why that ship was attacked."

"Come on, Tygrhen," said Tor'wick. "It was probably just a renegade clan or perhaps a band of bad bloods. It may have even been pirates, just let it go."

Tygrhen shook his head. "I can't. I've got a strange feeling about this," he leaned in closer to his two comrades and spoke with a softer voice. "What if the vessel we rescued has the artefact from the legends?"

"Aren't they just rumours?" Vey'lek inquired.

"I don't know. That's what I want to see. I need to know if they are true."

Vey'lek looked at his brother then turned to Tygrhen. "Well I'm in."

Tor'wick considered for a moment before putting his hands up in a surrendering manner. "Fine, fine, but hurry! The others will suspect something if we take too long."

"Agreed," said Tygrhen.

They quickened their pace, avoiding crewmembers wheresoever they could. It was not long before they reached the compartment in which the rescued ship resided. Tygrhen looked in every direction to see if it was clear before opening the door to the room. A thin layer of smoke poured out of the door, stirring gently as they walked through it into the room, closing the door behind them before one last check for any crewmembers. The smoke caused Tygrhen to cough, but was not thick enough in the air to disrupt breathing to a greater degree.

The ship had the scars of a fierce battle covering its hull. Blackened scorch marks and sections of the ship which were torn away pocked its surface. Electrical wires were exposed in many of the hull breaches, occasionally sending sparks spewing forth from the damaged section.

The three mischievous friends carefully approached the vessel's extended gangway, making sure their footsteps did not create too much sound. They made their way into the ship, observing the damaged corridor as sparks flew out from various exposed circuits. They proceeded with caution, making sure to avoid any of the exposed circuitry and taking care not to make any disruptions to the environment, lest evidence of their mischief be found.

Smoke wafted in the air, stirring as they walked through it. It was not long before they reached a terminal from which records could be obtained. Tygrhen approached it, running a hand over it to brush off small fragments of rubble. The gritty texture of the debris rolled against the palm of his hand, falling to the floor and clearing the screen. "Can you fix it?" he asked, turning his gaze to Tor'wick.

Tor'wick cracked his fingers. "Of course I can. Stand back and watch the master," he said with an air of cockiness.

He knelt down and started to fiddle with the circuitry. A loud crackle sounded and sparks spewed from the wires, knocking Tor'wick to the ground. He lay on his back for a moment, groaning as smoke gently rose from his chest. "Masterfully done, master," said Vey'lek.

Tor'wick gave a grunt as he stood back up, brushing himself off, though it did nothing for the blackened patch now burnt into the chest of his garments. He leant over the terminal, pressing several buttons. The screen flickered on, the wavering image threatening to flick back off at any moment. Tor'wick gave a sigh of relief as the flickering settled and the image cleared.

"Can you tell what happened?" asked Tygrhen, looking over his shoulder nervously to make sure no one was there.

Tor'wick remained motionless, his eyes fixed on the data before him as he scrolled through it. His eyes narrowed and a frown furrowed his brow. "There is a message from the high council. It speaks of war coming to the galaxy. The message requests that the ship seek out and find one of the pieces of an artefact from a set of coordinates given here. There is a reply to the message sent from this ship. It appears to be a voice message."

"Play it," said Vey'lek.

"Very well, but it seems to be damaged. I think it was sent while the ship was under attack," Tor'wick pressed some buttons on the screen.

The audio message started to play part of the way into the recording. Static plagued the recording, making most of the message incoherent. "Ship... under attack... they found us... need help... moving into the... storm... piece of the artefact... secured..."

The message ended, but the three stood motionless for a moment. "Then it's true," said Tygrhen. "Hurry, switch off the terminal, we have to get back to the group before our absence is noticed."

Tor'wick hurriedly pressed buttons and the three left the ship. They made haste in returning to their group, making an excuse for their delay before preparing to leave for the space station.

_[Author's note: One last thing to add concerning the space station. I know that the AvP universe doesn't really deal with other intelligent lifeforms other than the Yautja, humans and the extinct Mala'kak (Prometheus/ pilot race), but I was originally planning on having a few other species in the station, so what do people think of this idea? Or would you all be happier if I kept it simple and just stuck with Yautja? R&R please, thanks!]_


	5. Chapter 4: Boiling Point

_[Author's note: Apologies for the late completion of the next instalment. The final year at university is taking its toll on all activities which aren't work related, however, the next chapter is at last complete. If people still like the story/where it is heading, by all means let me know, reviewing the chapters is how I know you're all still interested in the story :). Anyhow, if there are any suggestions or things that people would really like to see in the story, I will do my best to incorporate it into what I have planned. Enjoy!]_

**Chapter 4:**

**Boiling Point**

Even in the darkness of space, before embarking upon a hunt that may see his life's ending; even after finding out that his people may indeed be at war, Tygrhen could feel nothing else upon his first steps into the space station than utter elation. The other unblooded ones walked on with similar feelings, their heads darting about the place to see all that could be seen. One of the more experienced crew members who accompanied them snorted and shook his head at the sight of them so fascinated by what had become a rather menial sight for him. It reminded him of his first steps on the station when he was young.

Tygrhen stopped for a moment, raising his knee to support the weight of the crate he carried while he obtained a better grip. He continued to walk with the group down a corridor, the walls lined with metal but housing windows which ran across the tunnel in long sections. He looked out of the windows while walking, seeing part of the space station as well as other ships which had docked. A small vessel passed by directly next to the window, almost giving some of the unblooded ones a shock at its proximity.

They eventually came to a larger area beyond the corridor, where several of the paths leading from the loading bays met. This space had multiple storeys, the group Tygrhen was with coming out on the third level. The levels ran in donut-shaped rings down the room, causing the largest part of the area to be hollow, tube-like shape. Seeing the various floating droids hovering about the area reminded Tygrhen of a hollowed out log with insects flying about it. It was here that the unblooded ones saw the vastness of the crowd attracted to Il'thora. They saw not only Yautja here, but also other races unknown to them, most of them generally humanoid in appearance. Tygrhen approached the Yautja leading his group. "Kry'lan," he started. "What are all these races? I've never seen their likes before."

He nodded. "Aye, nor are you likely to save for this space station. There are other great races of advanced beings other than us, but they are seldom seen. Space is a vast, dark, cold place devoid of life. Well, mostly. Advanced races are far and few between and it is likely that unless this space station is found, few will ever see them. You see, this station is a place whereby we may all engage in trade. Since we are all so far apart in the galaxy, there are many unique items made all the more valuable for trade. Items that we'd never even see the likes of if it were not for Il'thora. This space station was once much smaller, but it was found by other races, and they assisted in making it what it is today."

"So, we'll never see these races again?" Tygrhen queried.

"Not likely," Kry'lan replied. "It was a slim enough chance that they found Il'thora. That in itself is only because this station is so far out in the middle of nowhere."

The group moved onwards, continuing down to the bottom level before walking through a variety of wide corridors and large multi-storey rooms. Tygrhen stayed close to his group, seeing many of the Yautja staring at him as if he was not allowed to be walking in the space station. He knew that if he were not with the group he would most probably be killed. Despite this, he continued to look at every sight there was to see, his eyes wide and his mouth slightly ajar in wonder. It was not long before they came to a supply hold, the large area filled with crates, large containers, vehicles and Yautja who were taking care of the space.

The group set down the equipment they were carrying. The cart-like object being wheeled along by the more senior crewmembers was filled to the brim with supply boxes. Tygrhen and the other unblooded ones moved in to help unload the boxes. As Tygrhen walked towards it, Kraezak walked past him, a crate in his arms. He deliberately barged into Tygrhen with his shoulder, giving the human a rather sour look before continuing onwards. "Don't worry about him," Vey'lek gave Tygrhen a playful slap on the shoulder.

Once the cart had been cleared of supplies Kry'lan shared a few words with the Yautja crewman whose duty it was to maintain the area. He turned to the small group of unblooded ones. "Your assistance has been most welcome," he paused as he was caught in a moment of reminiscing. "I remember when I first stepped onto this space station. I assume you all wish to explore it further while you've the chance. You may all go and see the sights, but do not under any circumstance go further than this supply area. I do not wish any of you to get too lost; I will be in charge of finding you if that happens. Kaur'an expects you all to attend a training session in the morning, so I would recommend spending no longer than three hours, for it is late and you will need your rest. Now all of you go and have some fun," he smiled and gave the group a nod.

The group of young hunters dispersed like a flock of birds flying from a predator. Through the corridors and rooms, the group grew smaller and smaller as the unblooded ones went their separate ways. Eventually, it was only Tygrhen, Vey'lek and Tor'wick left wandering by themselves through the many areas.

They walked through the large corridor-like stretches, finding their way to much larger stretches where there was far more pedestrian activity. The area they travelled along was like a series of very large elongated rooms with ceilings so high that the three almost felt as though they were on a planet's surface, while also being extensively wide. Shops and stalls were strewn about the sides of the rooms, jutting out like small growths on the walls themselves. The shops sold all manner of items, from weapons and armour to food and drinks.

The three stepped off towards the side for a moment to get their bearings straight. "Hey," started Vey'lek, mischief glinting in his eyes. "Do you think we can find any of the crewmembers of the ship we rescued?"

"Not likely," said Tor'wick. "They could be anywhere by now."

"So am I the only one who is curious to find out more about this 'artefact'?" queried Vey'lek.

Tygrhen hissed a shush, looking around to make sure no one had heard his comrade's words before the three started walking again. "Of course I want to know more," said Tygrhen as the three rounded a corner, stepping down some stairs and continuing onwards. "Where would we possibly find them, though?"

Vey'lek's eyes seemed to sparkle with excitement. "I may know where they are. I overheard a conversation they were having before we left."

"When was that?" asked Tygrhen.

"Back on the ship in the cargo bay, they were standing to our side quietly speaking to each other. Kry'lan and the other blooded ones we assisted were telling us about safety precautions or something, I wasn't paying attention."

"You not paying attention to something that could save your life. Why am I not surprised to hear this," said Tor'wick.

"Well, what I _did_ pay attention to was the other crewmembers, who said where they would be meeting someone to drop off their 'special cargo'."

"Special cargo?" Tor'wick repeated in a soft voice. "That could only mean one thing. But we really should _not_ be doing this!" he hissed.

"Indeed we shouldn't," Tygrhen agreed with a sober nod.

"But... we're still going to do this aren't we?" asked Vey'lek.

"Of course," said Tygrhen.

"Yes," Tor'wick replied casually at the same time as Tygrhen's response.

Vey'lek smiled a typical Yautja smile as the three set off down the main walkway. They found a console which provided an interactive map, allowing them to see where to go. They moved hastily through the main areas of the station until it was time to set off down a smaller corridor. They moved quietly and quickly, coming at last to the region they sought. The area they were in seemed rather deserted, most probably why it was chosen. A short hallway was set into the left of the narrow corridor. They walked down the hallway which only lasted several steps, turning to the door which lay to their right. The door to the room was open, and so they stepped through in a stealthy manner.

The room was deceptively large. They assumed it would be small due to its location, having such a narrow set of corridors leading up to it. There were voices deep within the room, and upon entering, the three companions noticed numerous large, metal crates strewn about the place. They snuck over a small pile of crates which lay close by to the door, choosing that location in case they needed to make a fast escape. They poked their heads out from their position, seeing several figures standing around a metal box, its edges no longer than an arm's length. There were four figures, all with their backs towards the three unblooded ones.

"The council will take it," said one of the figures. "We will keep it in safe storage until all of the others are recovered."

"Who will deliver it to them?" Tygrhen recognised the voice. "Our ship is too damaged and will require repairs which may take weeks."

'It's the Captain of the vessel we saved,' Tygrhen thought to himself.

"Then the task is yours it would seem," the first figure said, turning to one of the other silhouettes.

The shadowy form took a step forwards, looking at the box and nodding before turning back to the first figure. The three gasped silently as they saw Qui'aleen standing there. "Very well," he said. "I have matters which I must attend to first, but it will be a short stop along the way. I shall deliver it safely to the council. You have my word."

The first figure nodded. "Good. Then we must make prayer that the gods and our ancestors guide us to the last of the pieces before it is too late. More settlements are disappearing and we've no idea why. It is as if they are looking for something."

"Or someone," Qui'aleen broke in.

The first figure nodded and gave a grunt, agreeing with the elder's words, but finding them distasteful to hear. After a short silence, the first Yautja spoke again. "Then it is settled. The piece will return with Qui'aleen aboard his ship."

The conversation continued as those present wrapped up all that had been said. The three mischievous eavesdroppers knew that this was their cue to leave. They nodded to each other, quietly heading out the door. As they turned to leave, Vey'lek knocked one of the crates, sliding it to the very edge of the box it was stacked upon. The three hastily moved out of the doorway, looking back with grimaces upon their faces as they saw the crate slowly tilt and fall. "Run!" hissed Tor'wick.

They ran as fast as they could as they heard the footsteps of those in the meeting rushing towards the door. Adrenaline coursed through their veins, their legs almost shaking as they ran. Although they felt fear at first, after a short time, smiles came to their faces and the feeling of terror was replaced by excitement and childish fun, as if they were playing a game of 'hide and seek'.

They continued to run down the corridor, the footsteps still clanging against the metal floor behind them. "This way!" said Tor'wick, turning down a corner to his right.

This led to another corridor which was slightly wider. The footsteps of their pursuers still rung against the metal ground behind them, spurring them onwards at an even faster speed. They turned down another corner to their left this time. "Over here!" whispered Vey'lek, pointing towards a closed hatch set into the side of the door. He pressed a button, opening it to reveal what looked like an air vent. "What is that?" asked Tor'wick.

"Just get in!" said Tygrhen. "There's no time!"

Tygrhen put half his body head-first into the circular, metal rimmed tunnel. "I've got a bad feeling about this," Tygrhen muttered to himself.

The tunnel continued on a downward slope, and with a curse, Tygrhen propelled his body forward, sliding down the slope with no way of stopping. Vey'lek followed close behind, giving off a yelp of surprise as he started his slippery descent. Tor'wick paused in hesitation for a moment. As he heard the footsteps almost upon him, he jumped in through the tunnel feet first, closing the hatch behind him before he started to slither down the slippery metal.

Tygrhen felt disorientated as he slid in complete darkness. He tried to grab onto anything, but the metal was too slippery. The tunnel twisted to the left, causing Tygrhen to spin upside down for a moment before sliding back onto his belly. Behind him, he heard Vey'lek yell upon rounding the corner. Another shout sounded from Tor'wick.

As he continued to glide down the passageway a strange, acrid smell started to fill the air. He had smelt it on the ship, but he could not remember where. The smell grew stronger and in a moment of clarity, he remembered. It was the smell of disinfectant used for cleaning tools. The tunnel started to grow lighter as the smell grew stronger still. He tried to place his arms on either side of the passageway to slow down. His body started to move slower, but Vey'lek came crashing into him from behind, sending him back on his high speed descent as light started to effectively pierce the tunnel's darkness.

He saw luminosity at the tunnel's exit fast approaching, but there was nothing he could do to stop. He shot out of the exit and into a strange liquid. The fluid foamed as he splashed into it, stinging his eyes as he stood up and opened them. Vey'lek sent liquid and foam flying as he crashed into it. He rose to his feet, hearing a screech behind him as his brother came through the exit at high speed, knocking him over and sending yet more foam flying about the room. Tygrhen helped his two comrades up as they took a moment to study their surrounds.

The room was small and had four lights upon the ceiling, providing more than adequate illumination. Strong-smelling liquid filled the room, coming up to the three comrades' shins. Piles of tools and other metal objects lay in heaps in the liquid.

The three stood in silence, their heads slowly rotating about the room as they looked at the small area in which they landed. Looks of shock clung to the faces of the three before a Yautja smile flared on Vey'lek's face. "Let's do it again!"

They left the room and soon found an area in which they were able to wash the pungent fluid off their bodies, thus that their stench would not give away their impish eavesdropping. Filled with a mix of emotions ranging from fear to excitement, they made their way back to their ship after some time, getting lost only three times – an achievement for such 'masters' of direction as they.

They walked back along the corridor leading to their vessel, looking out the windows at the magnificent ships and the outer boundaries of the awe-inspiring space station. They gave the warriors who stood guard at the doorway a nod before proceeding onwards through their ship.

After turning down various corridors and passageways they neared their sleeping quarters. His two friends entered their rooms, and Tygrhen said his "goodnights" before proceeding towards his quarters. He stopped in his tracks as he saw Qui'aleen walking towards him, his heart starting to pound for fear that the elder had discovered him and his friends' ill-behaved deed. As the elder came closer, Tygrhen saw that his gait was slow and his gaze fixed on the ground, concern set into the very depths of his yellow eyes.

"Father," said Tygrhen, to which the elder's head shot up in surprise.

He smiled softly. "Ah, Tygrhen, it is just you. Should you not be in your quarters getting as much rest as possible for tomorrow?"

"I am going there now."

"Good," Qui'aleen nodded. "Good."

There was silence for a moment. "Is everything alright?" asked Tygrhen.

Qui'aleen momentarily masked the weariness that shrouded his face with a forced smile. "Yes, my child," he lied, pausing for a moment. "At least, it will be soon enough."

'I hope,' the elder thought to himself.

"Now go, little one," he ruffled Tygrhen's hair. "You've much ahead of you tomorrow. You must learn from Kaur'an all that you can, for your trial draws nearer with each passing breath."

Tygrhen smiled. "Yes, father. I will not disappoint you."

He walked onwards towards his sleeping quarters. There he lay upon his bed, thinking about the events of the day. Worry plagued his mind, yet still, sleep beckoned him into its warm embrace. He yielded to it, closing his eyes and letting the warm room comfort him as he drifted off to sleep.

The unblooded warriors woke the next day, filling their bellies with a meal before reporting to a training room with Kaur'an. When all the unblooded ones had arrived and were standing before Kaur'an, he started his training session with an introduction. "There is very little time left now until your hunt. This is the second last training session that we will have before your departure. If you pay attention and take heed of what I say, you will survive and bring honour to your families. Disregard my words and you will perish. Your enemy shows no fear, nor do they show mercy. You will learn all of this soon enough, but for today, you shall fight me. Who will be the first to accept the challenge?"

"I will," said one of the unblooded warriors whose name Tygrhen did not know.

Kaur'an nodded and passed the hunter a wooden practice staff. The hunter struck at Kaur'an, who simply stepped to the side gracefully, avoiding the attack. The unblooded one struck again with three consecutive blows. Kaur'an parried them with ease. His challenger attacked again but to no avail. Kaur'an struck the unblooded one with such speed the hunter was knocked to the ground. He helped the young warrior back up and fought another unblooded one. He claimed victory after victory against all the hunters present without even breaking into heavy breathing.

"Your enemy will not show you the same mercy that I show you now. They will not stop and wait until you get back up," said Kaur'an in the same strict and gruff voice that he always carried when training warriors. "Now try again, but this time, you will attack me in groups of three."

He signalled three of the hunters to come forward and attack. They did so, lasting slightly longer than they had before, but being knocked to the ground all the same. Two more stepped forward, Kraezak joining them. The two moved in for the attack, their blows being parried by the great warrior before them. As they were being knocked over, Kraezak stepped in for an attack. His training staff caught Kaur'an on the arm before the old warrior knocked the unblooded one off his feet. He gave Kraezak a nod as the young one got back onto his feet.

At last, it came down to Tygrhen, Vey'lek and Tor'wick. The three stepped forward, looking at each other before adopting a defensive position and slowly moving closer to their opponent. They stepped closer still, their defensive posture still holding. Kaur'an attacked first, delivering a blow that Vey'lek could only _just_ deflect. Tor'wick and Tygrhen attacked in a somewhat random fashion, Vey'lek soon joining in. They were still unable to deliver a successful blow, but were instead constantly bombarded with attacks from their opponent. They stepped back panting heavily. They looked at one another and gave each other a nod before all moving in at the same time for a synchronised attack. They all swung their practice staves with all their strength. Kaur'an was able to parry Vey'lek's blow and was just in time to block Tygrhen's attack, whose staff lightly connected with the old warrior's leg. Tor'wick's blow hit Kaur'an directly on the back, sending his stumbling forward a few steps.

The three unblooded ones stood motionless for a moment, their staves still held high, their eyes open wide. Kaur'an chuckled. "Good, this is how you must fight; as a team. Fight as one and you will live, fight as many and you will die. That is enough for today, you may all go and do as you please."

Kraezak shot Tygrhen a bitter glance as he passed the human. The unblooded ones returned their practice staves to the side of the room before leaving the training area. They all rubbed areas of their bodies which pained them after the relentless blows delivered by their training master. Tygrhen rubbed his arm, looking down to see a patch on his forearm which was swollen and already showing bruising.

The rest of the day went by quickly with Tygrhen and his two friends exploring more of Il'thora. Tygrhen wore a bio helmet to cover his face, for he had no intention of provoking an attack from the other members of the space station who may have otherwise felt alarmed by a human's presence. He felt almost strange walking through the station with the bio mask on. The Yautja who passed him treated him as though he were one of their, albeit his skin and his hair was different, but most took little notice. A large Yautja warrior walked towards Tygrhen who gave the large hunter a nod. The great warrior returned the nod as he passed. Tygrhen felt accepted, and beneath the mask, he could not help but smile as he walked.

He and his companions exhausted the remaining hours of the day in their continued exploration. They had to retire to their quarters to catch up on sleep, but in their journeying they managed to locate their fellow crewmates' favoured bar. They planned on visiting the bar the following night, as it would be their last night spent on the space station before departing.

The next day went swiftly yet again. The unblooded ones met with Kaur'an for their final training session, after which Tygrhen, Vey'lek and Tor'wick assisted with the movement of supplies from the ship to the station and vice versa. Once again, Tygrhen wore his bio mask so as to blend in.

At the culmination of the day, work slowed among the great space station as many of those on board settled down for a quiet night or prepared for their end-of-the-day entertainment. Tygrhen and his companions followed some of the members of their clan to the bar they had discovered the previous night. As they neared the tavern, the sounds of some form of music and lively chatter amalgamated with cheerful laughter echoed through the hallways.

As they stood before the door, Tygrhen looked at his two friends with a smile that lay unseen behind his bio mask before continuing. The room was large, and the lighting was somewhat dark to set a certain mood. Another level lay above them, but almost half of the upper level's floor had been neatly cut away, leaving a large rectangle where floors would otherwise have been. It created a balcony-like effect, a rail lining the edges of the empty space. Several Yautja looked over the edge of the raining at the lower level, while others casually leaned on it whilst conversing with friends or courting females. Tygrhen walked further in, amazed at how many Yautja were in the bar, almost all of whom had a drink in hand. He noted that there were very few other races present here. Benches and tables lined the edge of the room, pressed up against the walls. Beyond them, some smaller tables and stools were set up, but a large portion of the lower room was consumed by space devoid of furniture as this area was consumed by the bar's denizens. Tygrhen looked to his right, seeing the main area from which drinks were purchased jutting out from the wall. Many drinks were lined against the back wall and a door lay behind the counter where yet more drinks were stored.

He and his two comrades approached the counter, weaving through the crowd. They eventually reached the counter behind which a burly Yautja served drinks. He looked at the three. "What can I get you?"

The three looked at each other for a moment before Tygrhen leant forward. "We're new to the station, what would you recommend?" he said in a raised voice, competing with the music and the lively crowd.

The bartender looked at the clan signal imprinted on Tygrhen's chest plate. "You are of Qui'aleen's clan, yes?"

Tygrhen nodded. "Yes."

"I have spoken to some of your clan members. Then you must be among the unblooded ones going to your first hunt. I know just the thing," he stepped away and poured a liquid into three large metal cups. "Here, unblooded ones."

"How much do we owe you?" asked Tor'wick.

The bartender shook his head and held out a hand. "This round is on me, young ones."

They thanked him before finding a bench in the room's corner. Tygrhen sat in the corner-most seat where it was darkest. He took off his bio mask, comforted by the darkness shrouding his face. The three smiled and gave a "cheers", knocking their cups together before drinking heartily. They choked on the strong alcohol after taking a deep gulp. They coughed as it burnt their throats. "That's good!" exclaimed Vey'lek, gulping more down and choking yet again.

Tygrhen and Tor'wick continued drinking as well. As the night carried on, they sat and talked, enjoying each other's company. "But I heard that the greatest warrior was Bil'rik," Tygrhen continued their discussion. "He was a master of every weapon and could slay the serpents by the hundreds!"

"No, no," objected Vey'lek, holding up a hand while taking another sip of his drink. "The greatest warrior was Kit'nol! It's said that he killed the serpents with his bare hands and that once he even bit one to death!"

Tygrhen and Tor'wick chuckled. "That's impossible!" Tor'wick shoot his head, his mandibles open in a wide Yautja smile. "Their blood burns everything; his face would have come straight off if he'd bitten it!"

Vey'lek laughed. "And it did! That was how he died, as they say. But you have to admit, it takes guts to do that!"

"It takes one crazy pauk is what it takes!" Tor'wick cackled as the others laughed too.

After downing what remained of their drinks, it was Tygrhen's turn to obtain another round. He put his bio mask back on hastily, not bothering to connect it properly as he would be but a moment before he was back in the safety of the darkness. He collected the three empty cups and weaved through the crowd towards the counter when he bumped shoulders with one of his clansmen. He said a quick apology, not bothering to look at the face. A hand came crashing down of his shoulder, spinning him to face the Yautja he had knocked into. He was twisted on the spot with such force that the cups in his hand fell to the floor. He looked at the angry face and muttered a curse. It was Kraezak.

"Finally, it's just me and you with no one to stop me from killing you!" said Kraezak.

One of the Yautja standing next to the two started to offer an objection. "He is one of our own, young one. It is best to..."

Before he could finish speaking, Kraezak interrupted. "He is not one of our own! He is a filthy Ooman!"

Kraezak grabbed the bio mask and before Tygrhen could react, he had torn it off, revealing a very human form. The chatter of those surrounding them died away as Yautja looked on with growing anger. Tor'wick and Vey'lek saw what was going on and rushed over to help, but could not get through the thick crowd.

Kraezak threw a punch which connected with Tygrhen's cheek, spurring vigorous cheering from the crowd. Having been caught off guard, he stumbled backwards into the crowd who pushed him violently back towards his opponent. Kraezak threw another punch, hitting Tygrhen in the stomach, which was followed up by two more punches, one hitting Tygrhen in the face and the other hitting him in the chest. Tygrhen's anger grew and finally boiled over the edge as he spat out a mouthful of blood. He let off a bellow before lunging at Kraezak, tackling him to the ground. He pinned his opponent to the floor and punched him repeatedly in the face, spilling drops of fluorescent green blood. Kraezak flipped the human off him and they wrestled on the ground, throwing punches and kneeing each other wherever they got the opportunity. Tygrhen gained the upper hand, holding Kraezak in a choke hold. Another Yautja from the crowd stepped in and punched Tygrhen in the back, followed by another who did the same.

Tor'wick and Vey'lek elbowed their way through the crowd before they joined in the fight, attacking the additional Yautja from the crowd who were assaulting their comrade. Tor'wick punched one of the bar's patrons in the jaw and followed it up with a left hook to the temple. Vey'lek ducked to avoid an incoming attack before launching a punch of his own, hitting into his challenger's stomach before elbowing his enemy in the face twice, knocking the drunk fighter to the ground.

The sight of Yautja fighting their own kind sent the crowd wild, they cheered as the fight soon erupted into the crowd itself. A large brawl ensued, filled with chaotic bellows, breaking glasses and roaring from the onlookers. The lights of the bar flashed in time with the music, creating a chaotic and somewhat disorientating scene, but it seemed to do naught to the onlookers but spur yet more cheering.

Tygrhen blocked an incoming punch with his forearm, sending his own fist into Kraezak's left cheek. His rival moved in with a deadly uppercut. He tried to move away from the attack, but only partially avoided it as Kraezak's knuckles scraped Tygrhen's face. They continued their volley of punches, most missing or being deflected, but some connecting.

Vey'lek and Tor'wick fought back to back against a continuous wave of attackers. Tor'wick kicked an incoming warrior in the shin. The hunter stumbled, allowing Tor'wick to grab the back of his challenger's head and thrust it into his knee. A look to his left notified him that his brother was having trouble downing a fighter. He stepped around two clansmen who were wrestling each other to the ground and instantly grabbed hold of the warrior fighting Vey'lek. With his brother's help, they threw the combatant to the ground and launched a volley of punches and kicks.

One of the bar's patrons cast forth a mighty punch, aiming directly at Tygrhen's face. He ducked down, spinning his body partly as he did so to give his attack momentum as he punched the inner side of the patron's knee. He felt something click out of place as the attacker fell. Using the force of his opponent's fall, he directed his knee into his enemy's face and sent the patron into a heavy concussion with an elbow to the temple.

One of the denizens of the bar had attacked Kraezak and was subsequently downed at roughly the same time Tygrhen had finished off the warrior facing him. The two unblooded ones stared at each other for a moment, their hatred boiling while all around them a chaotic scene had taken hold.

Tygrhen charged towards his adversary and launched a powerful kick which knocked Kraezak off his feet. He pounced towards Kraezak and threw forth a mighty punch which connected with his rival's forehead. The two kept punching one another, and soon Tygrhen had once again obtained the upper hand. He wrapped his hands around Kraezak's throat and tightened his grip as his adversary tried feebly to punch him.

From behind him, one of the members of the crowd grabbed him in a choke hold, pulling him back and tightening the strangling grip as another warrior moved in to punch Tygrhen in the stomach and in the face, splitting his lip. Tygrhen elbowed the assailant, but the grip did not loosen enough. The world started to grow dark when the grip suddenly slackened. He felt the warrior behind him fall and turned just in time to see a great fist pierce through the air into the face of the crowd-member who was punching his stomach. The crowd-member was knocked clean off his feet, hitting the ground hard with a concussion at the very least.

The large figure who wore a cape with elaborate armour held a gun into the air, firing three times. The loud sound startled everyone present, stopping the fight instantly as the music switched off and the lights came on. Tygrhen coughed and held a hand to his throat, feeling warm blood trickling out of his nose and split lip.

"What has become of you all? We are not animals!" bellowed the figure. "All of you clean up this mess at once! I would expect better of my own people! Those of you who are of my clan, return to the ship at once!"

He turned to face Tygrhen and it was then the human realised it was Qui'aleen standing before him. "Father, I..."

He held up a hand and shook his head slowly. "You two," he said, pointing at Tor'wick and Vey'lek. "Get back to the ship."

"Yes, sir," they muttered submissively, walking past as they gave Tygrhen a look which said 'good luck'.

"Both of you," he said coldly, beckoning Kraezak over who stood next to Tygrhen without question, for his fear towards his father was greater than his anger towards Tygrhen. "I am disappointed in you both. This brutish behaviour is bad enough from them," he nodded towards the dispersing crowd who now set about picking up broken objects and cleaning up. "But from the two of you," he shook his head. "From my own children."

"I..." Kraezak started.

"I will hear no excuses! Do not think me an old fool whose senses are all but dead! This will never happen again!" he said, his eyes now fixed on Kraezak. "Never again," he repeated in a softer, yet somehow firmer voice. "Now go, both of you. Go straight to the ship's infirmary and fix yourselves up. Wounds or not, your hunt begins tomorrow."

They said nothing; they simply nodded and walked away. Tygrhen went first while Kraezak walked slower to leave a significant space between them.

The wounds that they received were meagre, no bones were broken and there was no significant internal damage. A few cuts here and there and a few loose teeth were of no concern. Tygrhen had pushed the loose teeth back into place while there was still adrenaline blocking all the pain. He secured them by injecting a gel-like substance into his gums which then bound the teeth back into their rightful place, making them even stronger than before. The cuts he was able to seal easily enough and the consumption of a foul smelling liquid saw any swelling disappear. Such menial injuries were easily taken care of. The Yautja did pride themselves in hunting challenging prey after all. Dealing with wounds and continuing their tasks was a basic necessity, and thus the technology at their disposal for such bodily repairs was abundantly available.

As he sat in the infirmary chair, a feeling of gloom had taken hold of him. It was only while he sat in the chair staring into nothingness he realised how intoxicated he was. He snorted and shook his head before stumbling back to his quarters.

As he neared his room he heard Vey'lek's voice in the distance. "Pauk I'm drunk!" said the voice, followed by a loud crashing sound as the unblooded one fell.

Tygrhen could not help but chuckle a little as he walked into his quarters and shut the door. There he sat on the edge of his bed, his head hung in shame. He had controlled his anger all these years but this time, he could not help but lose control. For once he felt accepted among his people. To have it ripped away from him simply forced him to his boiling point.

He took a broad, polished blade from the table by the side of his bed and looked at his reflection, unsure what to think. He took hold of a strand of his light brown hair which had an almost golden shine to it in the light. It had grown to just below shoulder length. He looked into the reflection of his eyes. They seemed strange being blue, as he was so used to seeing the eyes of other Yautja. He rubbed the tips of his fingers over the raised flesh of his scar stretching from just above the brow of his right eye and continuing a short way onto his cheek. His human flesh also seemed strange, as did his face itself. 'A mouth should not look like this,' he thought to himself as he felt lips devoid of mandibles. His hand brushed over his high cheekbones, and he noted that with age his jaw was starting to set into one of a man rather than a child.

He sat there for what seemed like an eternity with naught but silence and shame to keep him company. The sound of his door opening startled him, especially as he thought that it was locked. His head darted up to look at the open space. Qui'aleen stepped through. "I thought it was locked. How did you...?" Tygrhen pointed at the door.

The elder snorted. "This is _my_ ship after all."

He closed the door behind him and stepped into the room. Tygrhen opened his mouth to speak but Qui'aleen slowly held up a hand while nodding. Tygrhen saw that all trace of anger was gone from the elder's eyes. "Know that I am sorry for shouting at you and your brother. I have already spoken to him. I just..." he tried to think of the proper words.

"I have brought shame upon you," Tygrhen said with a heavy heart.

"No," Qui'aleen said softly, shaking his head. He sat down next to Tygrhen.

"I should not have fought back. I should have walked away."

"Sometimes it is necessary to stand and fight. You must use every piece of your heart and your head to determine whether you should fight or run. You must understand, your brother does not see why I have raised you as my son. He does not see why one born of another race should have been given another chance at life. When I found you, I saw in you a strength that was beyond a mere baby. You have the flesh of a human, but you've the spirit of a Yautja. Perhaps it was mere chance that led to you being raised by me, but I choose to see it as fate. I feel that you've much before you, young one. One day much will rest on your shoulders, and your decisions will change lives. Perhaps hundreds of lives or even thousands."

"What happens if I make the wrong decisions?" Tygrhen looked at Qui'aleen with concern.

"In life you will not get every decision right, but know that no matter what, you will always be my son, and you will always have one proud father."

Tygrhen smiled and hugged his father. He pretended he was scratching his eye as he wiped away a forming tear. Qui'aleen walked to the door and opened it before turning back to Tygrhen. "Get some rest, my son. Tomorrow you will embark upon your hunt. You will prove to all those who do not believe in you why I saw you worthy of being raised as one of us," he turned towards the door but craned his neck to look back at Tygrhen one last time. "But remember that _I_ will _always_ believe in you."

He stepped through the door and closed it behind him.


End file.
